There Goes Another One Up The Ladder

Friday, August 14, 1942

Wonder of wonders it didn’t rain at all. That certainly does make a world of difference. Tomorrow we go out and don’t come back ’til Sunday morning when we’ll go back to Omagh. That will wind up this weeks of maneuvers, thank Heavens.

Received three “V” mail letters from Jane today and one from Mother. Jane’s letters certainly reflect the various moods she has. God, how I love her and do miss her. In her letter she mentioned that Fred Jordan is going to O.T.S. So there goes another one up the ladder and I still can’t reach the bottom rung.

Today I was the C.O.’s runner and he certainly did run me. He’s a lot easier to get along with since the made him a captain. (From the W.P.A. to a Captain in the U.S. Army).

It's Awful to be Handcuffed Like This

Sunday, August 16, 1942

Back into Omagh today. It’s good to be back. A week out in that morass is enough. After I got straightened out a little at the courthouse I went down and took a much-needed shower. Talk about filth. Came back and took a little nap and them went up to Gallaghers for a steak and chips dinner.

Received a letter from Jane today and one from Dad. Dad is really one great guy. It’s a great disappointment to him about my remaining a buck. And, I know exactly how he must feel. He’s always placed a great deal of confidence in me, with all his gruffness at times. That I should remain in the ranks while all my friends are going up is a source of much disappointment to him. And I know how those things hurt down deep because I’m hurting inside now.

I’m going to see Lt. Holt this week and see if he can give me any help. Any suggestion at all will help. It’s awful to be handcuffed like this.

Rumor has it that division may ask for volunteers to train as bombardiers for the Air Corp. I’d jump at such a chance, even though your chances of seeing home again are cut down immeasurably. It mightn’t be fair to Jane but anything is better than this and I’m sure she’d understand.

Jane’s letter was like all her others — loving and sweet. I answered hers tonight and will answer Dad’s tomorrow. 

So until then — off to bed.

Rumors of a Second Front

Wednesday, August 19, 1942

We are no longer stationed at Omagh. On the 17th, orders came though that 60 men from our company were to go on a guard detail. I was one of the 60. Where we were to guard, no one knew. We moved out under sealed orders. Everyone figured it would be either in Belfast or Lurgan, and packed all their best and finest, in preparation for a good time. Where did we end up? A million miles from nowhere, guarding a huge ammunition dump (about 20 miles from Omagh). We sleep in American built corrugated tin billets. They’re very comfortable. We’re on four hours and off eight. I pulled the 2-6 shift. It really isn’t that bad.

Today some more “F” Co. boys came in and told us that the rest of the company and in fact the whole 2nd Btn. was moving out of Omagh. We still don’t know where they’re going but believe it might be Enniskillin. We’ll only be guarding here a week or more and then we’ll rejoin the company. 

Rumors of a “2nd Front” having been open came to us today. However nothing official as yet.

I wrote Jane tonight but as yet haven’t answered Dad’s letter.

Monotonous Regularity

Friday, August 21, 1942

Things are moving along here with monotonous regularity. It’s the same old schedule. On post for 4 hours, eat and go to bed. And so it goes. In between times, I take time out to write a few letters. Fortunately I have a well-concealed post and can read (when it’s light) providing I keep an eye carefully peeled.

Yesterday I received a package From Jane containing candy and two flat 50’s of Phillip Morris. I also got a carton of Camels from Mother. They are the first packages I’ve received since I’ve been over here. I finally wrote that letter to Dad. In it I conveyed as well as  could exactly how I felt regarding my present position. I made one remark in my letter that I think is worth repeating here. I told thin that if I learned no other lesson from this war, I had learned this: that as long as I live I’ll never be on the bottom again, regardless of what price I have to pay.

I spoke to Lt. Holt the other day regarding my problem. He’s a peach of an egg and told me he knew exactly how I felt. He promised to do what he could but held out very little hope because for some reason the regiment hates to see its men transfer.

Today all my hopes went u the flue as Lt. Holt was transferred to the 168th which it is rumored pulled out for Scotland. Everything is bawled up and in a terrific turmoil. It appears that “J” Co. is permanently split. In another few days we should know.

The 2nd Front we’d heard about was nothing more than a Commando raid, but a huge one. Americans participated. There was supposed to be 85% casualties.

Eat, Sleep and Post

Sunday, August 30, 1942

My first entry for 9 days. Things are exactly as they were nine days ago. Nothing new. We’re still on guard here at the ammunition dump. It’s still a matter of eat, sleep and post. The rest of the company is located at Kiladeas in a modern camp constructed by the U.S. Navy. Every convenience is at hand. The rumour that “F” Co. was split is not true.”

My mail was pretty slow that beginning of the week but toward the end of the week it picked up. Yesterday 4 letters from Jane and 2 from Mother. Will answer those letters tonight.

If we stay here another week my guard relief will get 16 hours off next Saturday. I plan to go to Omagh if we get the time off. Am anxious to buy a portable phonograph if it’s possible. If I get it will send home for records. Sure would like to hear from of T. Dorsey’s stuff.

And so to those letters —.

Something New and Different

Wednesday, September 2, 1942

Today I bought a phonograph. It had been in the back of my mind for some time to get one. I happened to mention it to one of the truck drivers yesterday. He came in today and said he’d seen one in Irvingstown for sale. He was going in so I got permission to go in with him. It’s a second-hand macine but isn’t in bad shape. Price 3 Pounds 10 Shillings. Howie Simmons and Don Lorenze each chipped in a 1 Pound so the entire deal cost me only about $6. I couldn’t get any records that were anywhere near modern. Borrowed some records from the girl who lives near the dump. Vintage 1916. Real peachy jobs! When we do get some records it will be alright. Hell, it will be something new and different anyway. 

Nothing else to report.

Bing Crosby Numbers

Thursday, September 3, 1942

Wonder of Wonders! Today I got a 6-hours pass. Where to go in 6 hours? I hadn’t the faintest idea but I just wanted to get out of here. So off I went accompanied by Russo (one of the Brooklyn Russo’s) and Quigg (one of the Brooklyn Quiggs). We started walking into Irvingstown about three miles away, and when we’d walked about halfway the O.D. came along in the “Peep” and picked us up. When we got there someone suggested we go to Omagh which is about 19 miles from Irvingstown. We missed the train and ended up hiring a taxi which cost us $6. Arrived there at 4 p.m. Quigg went to his Aunt’s, Russo went to see his girl and I went to buy records. Managed to get a few Bing Crosby numbers but on the whole the selection was pretty poor. I got a much-needed haircut and then went off to have a few drinks and dinner. Met the boys at Quigg’s Aunt’s at 9 p.m. and we hired another taxi to take us back. Quigg’s girlfriend and his cousin rode back with us. Quite a girl — his cousin. The return trip cost the negligible sum of $12. I don’t know why they don’t just hold us up with a gun.

We were due back to 8 p.m. and arrived back at 11:30 and managed to sneak in. Then we sat up and played records and finished a bottle of Scotch. Went on guard at 1 a.m. At that time the German Wehrmacht could have bivouacked alongside of me and I’d never have known it.

The "Regular Three"

Friday, September 10, 1942

Another pass today and so off to Omagh again. This time two other boys went in with us (Red and Clyde) besides the “regular three.” We hired a car from Kesh, a small village near Deer Park. For 2 pounds the driver promised to take us in and also bring us back again. A damn good deal. Had 12 hour passes this time running from Noon to Midnight. Arrived in Omagh at about 3 p.m. Quigg went to his Aunt’s and Tony and I went to McCade’s and bough 2 1/2 lbs. of steaks. We took it to Gallagher’s. While we waiting I went down to the “five and dime” store and bought some new J. Dorsey’s records that had just come in. The salesgirl made eyes again as usual. I went to the Western Union and sent Jane a cablegram to commemorate “our Sept. 13th anniversary.” After our dinner of steak, chips and beans, we went down to Quigg’s Aunt’s. Here we spent the remainder of the time fooling around and doing a lot of nothing. Bridey, one of Quigg’s cousins, is a cute looking girl of 18 and could be had.

Met “Red” and Clyde at 11 p.m. and there the car picked us up and brought us back. Arrives back just before 12.

Some People Are Awful

Thursday, September 17, 1942

The spring in my phonograph was broken today by some jerks. We tore the thing apart (Howie and I) and tried to repair it but it couldn’t be done. So off we drove to Kesh in the “Peep” and took the machine to a phonograph repair man. He said it could be repaired for about $2. He loaned me a phonograph until mine was fixed.

Received three letters today. One each from Jane, Mother and Cookie. Jane’s letter told all about Kay Eddy’s wedding. It was a swell letter and I just finished answering it. She told me about some tactless woman who in sympathising with her because I was in Ireland said, “Don’t worry, Jimmy will be back.” Jane was just tight enough to start crying. Poor kid. Some people are awful. 

A Wealth of Thoughts

Monday, September 21, 1942

Yesterday I received a letter from Larry “Potatoe-head” Wade. Larry’s located in Belfast in the Permits Office. He’s got a damn nice set-up. We’ve been corresponding intermittently ever since we’ve been over here. Through our letters home we managed to get Millie Wade and Jane together. They seemed to like one another a great deal. I’m looking forward to the day when we can make it a foursome.

Wrote Andy yesterday. According to Mother’s letter he’s now working for Dad. Sure am glad to hear it because Andy always did want a white-collar job. Must mean quite a slash in his salary though.

Life moves monotonously and serenely on out here at Deer Park. A new system has been worked out on the guard details and we go post at different times each day.

What a wonderful opportunity for one to think. Those hours that one stands post offer wonderful opportunities for a person to think about the past and the future (such as it may be). What a wealth of thoughts during those hours on post. In those hours I’ve planned the home I’d like Jane and myself to have. Right to the smallest details (even to the type of door knocker). Rose thoughts of a successful business venture with Dad occupies many other hours. Most of it is day-dreaming but very enjoyable. Many of my thoughts are concentrated on my present problem of advancement in “this man’s Army.” 

The Russians still stand fast in Stalingrad. What a grand fight they are making.

Back in the States, They're Begging Them to Go

Friday, September 23, 1942

Today I went into Kiladeas where the rest of the company is stationed. I rode in on the ration truck which goes in everyday to pick up the following day’s rations. I went in with one express purpose. To see Capt. Tums regarding my “little problem.” When I arrived there I went searching for him and found him walking along the road. I went and asked him if I could have a word with him. I reminded him that back at Dix he had given me a fine recommendation for O.C.S. in the A.G. School. I asked him if he would give me another such recommendation as I was terribly anxious to improve my position. He told me that it wouldn’t do any good to make out another application because, he said, as far as he knew my first application was still at regimental headquarters. When there is a call for more candidates my application will be referred to them. (Back in the States they’re begging them to go.)

 I asked him if he was sure that my application was still in. He said he was pretty sure it was but that I should check with the company clerk. I thanked him and left in search of the clerk. I found him and explained it all to him. He said he’d look it up. If the application is longer in there I intended filling out another one. We’ll wait and see —

I Write This From A Hospital Bed

Wednesday, September 30, 1942

One year in the Army today. I feel I should philosophize on this point, but won’t.

I write this from a hospital bed at the Army Hospital in Irvingstown. On Sunday the 27th I got terrible cramps in my stomach followed by a chill so I went to bed. My relief went on guard at 7 p.m. but when they fell out I stayed in bed. The medics man, “Doc” Lean, came in and took my temperature. It read 101 and some tenths. He called the hospital and they sent out an ambulance. On to the litter I went and off to the hospital. It was a terribly bumpy ride and I can’t say much for those medics men when it comes to handling those litters. When we arrived at the hospital a medical officer gave me a summary exam. He kept probing my stomach with his finger and for a while I though he’d rush me off to surgery with appendicitis. My temperature meanwhile had gone over 102. They finally carried me to one of the wards and put me to bed. Oh Heaven — what is more glorious than sheets and a spring bed after months of peat bags and army cots. The same night I was moved to another ward where there was an awfully pretty nurse on night duty. (Miss Rogers by name). The first American girl I’ve seen in five months.

My diagnosis was pneumonia. Next day I felt much better and had chest X-rays.

Now I’ve convalescing and the diagnosis was changed to flu.

Yesterday I received a registered letter from Jane with $5 in it. First letter received in six days. No one in the company has received any mail. Something seems to be up. Meanwhile I’ll lay around and take life easy.

The Russians Still Hold Stalingrad

Friday, October 9, 1942

Well here I be — still in the Irvingstown hospital. I’m just as well now as I ever will be but now I’m here til they fix my jaw. The X-rays have been taken and they’ll probably cut me open monday. It should be pleasant — like it was when Gallagher messed with it.

Yesterday I received five letters from Jane. Today two. Mable seems to be giving her trouble and Johnny’s just dying to be of assistance. When I lay here at night my mind is certainly active. 

The Russians still hold Stalingrad.